Siege
by Octavia Delitian
Summary: A very short glimpse into life in the tower guardpost in Tel Branora. Features Mollimo of Cloudrest, guard captain, and Darvasa Vedas, Wizard and second in command.


Oneshot featuring Mollimo of Cloudrest (Therana's guard captain). It's more of a character building story than an actual plot, because nothing happens really. :P Sorry about that. It's quite building on the cliché of "man comes home from work".

Siege

Darvasa Vedas was awaken from her half slumber by a shattering noise that left her ears ringing. She looked up from where she sat, leaning over her desk. _It must have been the door,_ she thought. As heavy steps came closer in the short corridor, she yawned and closed the book that she had fallen asleep over.

"The slaves are starting to disobey in the mine now," Mollimo said and pulled off his enchanted cephalopod helmet, which did a great deal to mask his frustrated expression when he was out patrolling the tower. Now he had no intention or reason to hide his feelings, though. Even though Darvasa was far above Mollimo in House rank and just one step below Therana herself in the tower, they were co-workers in every way. They even slept in the same bed, even if it was a bunk bed. That didn't stop them from sharing bunks from time to time, though.

"This is bad news," Darvasa said, playing with a red tress of hair as she studied the big Altmer. Ever since Trerayna Dalen and a band of Bosmer had appeared months earlier, daring to challenge Mistress Therana, Mollimo and his men, along with the ranking mages, had been kept close to the Mistress, forbidden to leave the tower to finish off the intruders. It was offending to Mollimo that he was besieged by an inferior enemy while not allowed to strike back at the nonsense.

"Everything is collapsing and there is nothing I can do about it! But since I _should_ do something about it normally I bet I get the blame anyway! You know our Mistress." Mollimo tossed the helmet on the lower bunk of the bed and soon his bracers followed. He was wearing an almost full set of Dwemer armor. Apart from a matching helmet - that he claimed he did not need because he was fully satisfied with his current one - the pauldrons were missing, replaced by bonemold instead. Darvasa was always looking out for a pair, but she did not venture out often or far enough to be successful. Especially now when she was trapped within tower grounds it was impossible. "The slaves need a firm hand or they will stop behaving. Now when I can't be there to discipline them properly..." he pulled out the stock whip he wore at his belt, gathered it in a coil and put it on top of the closet. Tall as he was, it was just another shelf to be used.

"Any news about the siege?" Darvasa was obliged to ask that question for her daily written reports to the Mistress, even though she did not expect it to differ from the day before, or the day before that. The standstill was very annoying.

Mollimo snorted and opened the closet, which was full of finery. Even though working for Therana could be a wrecking experience, they were all richly compensated. "Nope. Dalen swaggered around, doing nothing as usual." He put the helmet and the bracers inside and started to take off the rest of his armor. "It was very tiresome to watch." He stifled a yawn. "Ennah is in command until tomorrow. There won't be any attacks in nighttime from that band though. It would be convenient if they tried, though, and Trerayna fell into the sea and drowned because she didn't see where she put her feet. I doubt she knows even basic magic."

"She doesn't have to: She's an _enchanter!" _Darvasa poured up two tankards of mazte as she spoke. "They must have been sponsored by someone. They're all flashy equipment and empty heads. Nobody with the least sense would challenge one of the mightiest Telvanni alive with a band of Bosmer archers! Especially not a mere Oathman! _You_ have higher rank than her, Mollimo."

"Who..."

"Aryon? It would not surprise me the least. He's trying to cause conflicts and disturbances within the House, because conflict leads to _change_, which he is so fond of."

"Well, we can't find out either since we're not going anywhere." Mollimo put his boots on the floor beside the closet, since they were too big to fit inside. She had always wondered how he could even walk with those things. Dwemer designs always seemed so inconvenient to the eye. Even under the armor, Mollimo wore finery. He claimed that it was actually a practical choice because he needed comfortable clothing under the heavy metal, but that did not explain the ornamental patterns and brocade. She rose up from her chair and handed him his tankard, which he emptied immediately. He always complained about getting cooked inside of his armor and it had been a warm day.

"Thank you."

"Are you awfully tired yet?" She gazed into his golden brown eyes, having to bend her neck in an almost unnatural angle to do so.

"Not yet." He grinned and started to unbutton his shirt. Darvasa sipped her mazte and watched him strip. Being trapped in the tower wasn't all that unpleasant if you had good company.


End file.
